Chapter Four
Bailey
I’d been wrong about Xander LeBlanc. How on earth did I think he couldn’t be too different from his grandmothers? I swear he must have been adopted. The guy wasn’t anything like anyone I’d met from his family. He was definitely a grump, plus coldhearted and stubborn.
The next morning when Avery came into the kitchen, she took one glance at me and said, “Your spark is gone.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“You didn’t put on Christmas carols. You look like you’re lost in your thoughts, and not the good kind. What’s wrong?”
I sighed. “I’d planned to tell you this over lunch, but I’ll just rip off the Band-Aid.”
She grimaced. “Don’t scare me.”
“Xander paid a visit yesterday.”
“Xander LeBlanc?”
“The one and only.”
“He dropped by unannounced? Ballsy of him.” That made me laugh. “You should’ve called me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve already met the guy once when I took pralines to the LeBlanc-Broussard restaurant. He’s an acquired taste.”
That made me laugh even more. “You could say that.”
“Although, I do remember him being quite good-looking. Though that’s not saying much. I swear to God, all the LeBlanc guys are drop-dead gorgeous. They could be Hollywood stars.”
“I agree with that,” I said, focusing on the batter. What was there not to like about Xander LeBlanc? He was probably six feet, with thick dark hair and very penetrating eyes. “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed... if he weren’t such a grump trying to shut down the operation.”
My sister came closer. “He actually said that?”
I looked up at her, setting down the batter bowl. “No. He said he’ll ‘assess things,’ but I could practically feel his disdain for this place. Like he was looking around and constantly thinking, ‘This is just a waste of money. And this is just a waste of money.’ He said he’ll keep an eye on things, and we’re set for this Christmas anyway.”
“Right,” Avery said, taking out ingredients for more batter.
“But you know what? Maybe this will be a good opportunity to convince him that our work is important.”
Avery smiled from ear to ear. “Nothing can dampen your optimism, can it?”
“No, but really,” I went on, managing to hype myself up, “just think about it. He probably sits in his office all day, looking at numbers and trying to make decisions based on that. As far as I understood, unlike his brothers, he isn’t in charge of a full branch. He’s not a hands-on type of person. But if he watches us closely, sees what we do and how much joy our business brings people, maybe he’ll change his mind.”
Avery grimaced.
“Stop making that face,” I chastised.
“I’m sorry. But I don’t think that’s how Xander operates. As far as I’ve heard, the guy is a genius with numbers. He managed to raise the profits of the company exponentially. Not that it wasn’t doing well before, but now it’s performing even better.”
I deflated a bit at that. “He raised profits, huh? By cutting off other branches like ours?”
She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know any details.”
I bit my lower lip, thinking hard. “We’ve encountered skeptics in our career, and we won them over with the pralines.”
“That was different, and you know it,” my sister said as we both got to work on our respective batters. We had plenty of kitchen machinery, of course, but some things still had to be done by hand. “We’ve had great success bribing guards with pralines to let us stay past visiting hours in the hospital. Convincing Xander LeBlanc not to shut this down is different.”
True, those weren’t comparable, but I couldn’t help being optimistic. As the day went on, I kept thinking about ways I could prove to Xander that the confectionery business was valuable. I just had to show him how much love went into this and how much joy it brought to people. Surely that had to count for something.
In the afternoon, I sat down in the small makeshift office I’d built in the corridor between the two rooms and opened my laptop.
“Oh no.”
“What?” Avery called.
“Jack is sick this week. I’m taking on the deliveries.”
“I can do it.”
“Nah, I’m fine. Besides, it’ll give me a chance to see how things have changed at the LeBlanc & Broussard restaurant since they brought on the new chef. You were there last Christmas, but I haven’t gone for eons.”
“Do you know she’s actually engaged to Chad LeBlanc?”
My eyes widened. “No, I didn’t know that. Wow, that’s something. And how do you know all the gossip?”
“Isabeau likes to talk about the family.”
My sister and I were very tight, but I couldn’t imagine how it would be to have such a big extended family as well. We’d only met our grandparents from our dad’s side a few times because they lived in Florida and were already elderly when we were born. Our parents toyed with the idea of sending us there for the summer, but they were too frail to deal with two rambunctious girls. We’d been close to Mom’s parents, though.
I carefully checked all of my emails, and one in particular caught my attention. It was from Xander LeBlanc.
Title: Update Needed
Hi Bailey,
Thank you for taking your time to give me a tour. I’d like a spreadsheet with all the orders and all your production costs for this Christmas season. The one we have isn’t detailed enough, and it’s five years old, so it’s not adjusted for inflation.
My heart grew heavy. I’d been totally wrong. There was no winning him over.
I groaned.
“What is it?” Avery asked, running to me.
I pointed to the screen. “Read it for yourself.”
She leaned over my shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the screen, then half groaned, half laughed. “Told you! This guy isn’t going to be swayed by us.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.”
***
Xander
Numbers were my bread and butter. And I didn’t like the ones Bailey sent me at all. I’d done predictions adjusted for inflation from the information I had from five years ago, but this year, we were going to be even more in the red than usual.
Damn it, I should just close down the whole thing now. Why did I promise my grandmothers to keep it running for the Christmas season?
I glanced at the second spreadsheet she’d sent me. It was a schedule of some sort. At first I thought she’d included it by mistake, so I went over her email again.
Hi Xander,
Attached is the spreadsheet you asked for. I’m also sending you a list of all the places where we’re taking pralines this year. I hope to see you at some of those events. I won’t be everywhere in person, of course, but I marked the places where I will be.
I looked at the schedule again. They were delivering to LeBlanc & Broussard today at seven o’clock. I could make it there in time. She wasn’t the one bringing the pralines, which made sense. But it would serve me well to meet someone else on the team and see what exactly the delivery process was all about.
For the rest of the afternoon, I focused on more pressing matters, such as where we were on the profit and loss prediction so far. I insisted on being part of the planning in all of the Orleans Conglomerate businesses every year. It was a hellish amount of work. I liked to keep projections realistic, which was contrary to what everyone else was doing, but I hated setting unrealistic expectations and then simply pressing everyone around me to do more and more and more. It was bad for morale. In my opinion, it was simply not good business.
At six thirty, I left the office.
I arrived at the restaurant quickly enough and left my car in the parking lot they had for personnel in the back. Royal Street was insanely full. Then again, the holiday season in New Orleans was something else. Not quite as crowded as during Mardi Gras, but it was definitely the second-busiest season. LeBlanc & Broussard was filled to the brim, but my brother kept a contingency table in case anyone from the family showed up.
I stepped inside, and the guy behind the welcome desk immediately jumped to his feet. “Mr. LeBlanc, hello.”
“Good evening.”
“Are you here for dinner?”
“No.” The guy’s shoulders slumped, relief obvious on his face. “The pralines are being delivered today, right?” I asked.
“Yes. They’re already here, in the kitchen.”
“Thanks. I’ll go directly there.”
It would be a madhouse at this hour. But even though I didn’t like chaos, I had fond memories of the restaurant’s kitchen and the hustle and bustle involved. My grandmothers had put their hearts and souls into this business. As a kid, I was often here with them, and they gave me easy tasks so I couldn’t mess up.
When I stepped inside, I took in the scene for a few seconds without announcing my presence. Scarlett, my brother’s fiancée, was an excellent chef. Not only had she improved the menu, but the kitchen was running far more smoothly than under the two previous chefs. When I found her, she was talking to Bailey.
What’s she doing here? Fucking hell, the woman looked amazing. She was wearing a black dress that was glued to her body. I was going to think about those curves well into the night, I was sure of it.
I took in a deep breath, gathering my wits. For fuck’s sake, Xander, this isn’t the first attractive woman you’ve come across . But something about Bailey completely disarmed me. Her wavy dark hair begged for my hands to comb through it. I walked toward them with determined strides.
“Xander,” Scarlett said, “what a pleasure to see you. I didn’t know you were dropping by.”
“I heard that pralines were being delivered today.”
Scarlett nodded. “Yes. They’re so delicious. You should have one.”
Bailey gave me a small smile. I tried not to look at her mouth for too long.
She pointed to a small package. “Those are for Celine and Isabeau. Which of you is seeing them first?”
“Probably me,” I said.
“Could you give this to them? I made their favorites.”
And just like that, I was disarmed again.
“I will,” I assured her.
Scarlett looked past my shoulder, then cleared her throat. “Thanks a lot for stopping by, Bailey. I need to get back to the team.”
Bailey smiled warmly at her. “Sure. I’ve heard so many good things about you that when our delivery person got sick today, I jumped at the opportunity to meet you.”
Scarlett leaned in, clearly about to say something, but then one of the staff members called her name, and she looked over her shoulder toward the voice. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Sure. Don’t worry. Let’s get out of the kitchen,” I suggested to Bailey once Scarlett left, “so we aren’t in anyone’s way.”
“Good thinking,” she said.
I guided her out, putting a hand on her back. She leaned into my touch before straightening up and taking a step to the right, as if determined to put more space between us.
I dropped my hand instantly. I didn’t want to unnerve her, and it was probably for the best. This was business, plain and simple.
There wasn’t much room to stand and talk in the restaurant either. Quite a few people were still waiting to be seated.
“Do you have time to grab a coffee?” I asked her.
She cocked her head in my direction, eyes wide. Why was this so shocking to her?
“Sure, I could do with a hot drink. Although, hot chocolate is my choice of poison at this time of year.”
“Right.” As we walked out of the restaurant, I added, “There’s a good place on Bourbon for hot drinks. It shouldn’t be too crazy tonight.”
She flashed me a huge smile. “Hey, I’m with a wall of muscle, and it’s a weekday, so if not tonight, then when?”
“A wall of muscle?” I parroted.
She narrowed her eyes. “My God, Xander, you have no sense of humor, do you?”
I didn’t reply.
“Ha. I stumped you?”
Fucking hell. If this woman knew what was on my mind, she’d run away from me. I had the overwhelming urge to press her against the nearest brick wall and kiss her senseless.
This never happened to me. At least not with someone I barely knew. I was a very cerebral person. I was in charge of my instincts, not the other way around.
But if she kept running her sassy mouth, I would end up kissing her.
“I would be careful, Bailey. You’re playing with fire.” I took a step back because she seemed too perplexed and said, “This way.”
For a few seconds, neither of us said anything. Then we moved on.
Bourbon Street was madness, but I’d gotten used to it. I didn’t know why it had the reputation for being unsafe. I’d passed it numerous times in my life, and no one ever tried to pick a fight. Then again, as Bailey pointed out, I was tall and strong. I wasn’t being arrogant, just factual.
“So... how come you couldn’t outsource the delivery?”
“Xander... we’re grabbing hot chocolate. Could we make small talk or something?”
“Like what?” Small talk had never been my forte. I found it a waste of time. Several dates had no qualms about telling me how much I sucked at it too.
“Like, what do you think about the decorations that we already put up for Christmas?”
I jerked my head back.
“You don’t do small talk, do you?” she asked.
“No, not a strength of mine,” I admitted. “I get straight to the point.”
“Right. Okay.”
We continued walking to the bubble tea shop that had opened recently. I came here by accident once, thinking it was a coffee shop. It had all manner of strange drinks, but my niece had wanted to try the hot chocolate.
“Bella had the one with marshmallow, and she swore it was the best thing she ever drank,” I told Bailey.
“Who’s Bella?” she asked.
“My niece. My brother Chad’s daughter. Although, she’s a kid, so I’m not sure if her tastes are the same as an adult’s.”
“Oh, please, I love marshmallows with my hot chocolate.” She winked and turned around, looking at the menu scribbled by hand on a chalkboard above the counter.
“What can I get you?” the vendor asked after the couple in front of us left.
“I’ll have whatever she does.”
Bailey glanced at me before focusing on the vendor. “I’ll have a hot chocolate with marshmallows, honey syrup, caramel syrup, and a praline.”
My eyes bulged. “Actually, just hot chocolate for me.” Her order sounded like an explosion of sugar.
“Coming right up,” the vendor said.
Bailey turned to me, and I could tell that she was holding back laughter.
I sighed. “Just say it.”
“I knew you were going to change your mind once you heard my order.”
“I didn’t realize anyone could like so much sugar.”
“I make pralines for a living... for now, at least.” Her smile was still in place, but the light in her eyes dimmed a bit.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t care to talk about business. I wanted to ask more about her. Why had she chosen this line of work? How on earth could she enjoy it so much?
For God’s sake, I had to get myself together. The whole reason I came here tonight was to get more insights on the business and why I need to sell it, not learn more about the woman I was potentially about to lay off.
After we grabbed our drinks, we stepped to the side. There was a wooden counter running along the wall.
“Want to stay here and drink it?” I asked.
“Sure.”
She took a sip and said, “Holy shit. Bella is right. This is amazing. It’s like gooey goodness in more gooey goodness. I can’t believe I’ve never had this in my life.” She looked up at me. “Why are you laughing at me?”
I hadn’t even realized I was smiling. “I’m not. I like watching you enjoy this.”
“Hmm,” she said, then took another sip. “Behind those judgy eyes, I can already hear you thinking about how I could be using this time for business purposes. Isn’t that right?”
I straightened up. “Not exactly.”
“Oh goodness. Let’s have at it.” She set her cup down on the counter. She had a line of chocolate on her lower lip, and it was all I could do not to lean in. Instead, I glanced down at my cup, steadying myself.
“If some parts of the business were automated, you could certainly use your time better. For instance, if you used more kitchen machines and didn’t do individual wrapping of the pralines but rather batched them, that would speed up the process.”
I looked up at her. She was blinking rapidly.
“When did you even think about this? How did you even know that I wrap every praline manually?” she asked.
“It’s obvious from the layout of the boxes,” I said. “And when I came in, you were mixing the batter yourself.”
“We do have kitchen appliances,” she said, “but some things taste better if done by hand.”
“And this whole delivery thing can be easily outsourced,” I continued. “That way, you wouldn’t run into issues like this when some of your team members get sick.”
Bailey took another sip of her hot chocolate, tapping her fingers on the cup. After lowering it, she said quietly, without making eye contact, “Xander, I actually like this way of doing things. I understand that you want this branch to be more profitable, and that’s your right, of course. It’s your company.” She looked up at me. “But there’s no need to put down my current process. We get the job done, and customers shower us with praise. We bring people joy.”
“I’m sure you do, and I’m not trying to minimize your impact,” I assured her. “I sincerely apologize if it’s coming across that way. I realize I’m being blunt, but I don’t mean to offend you.”
She nodded. “I know that. So, what other suggestions do you have for... making the business more to your liking?”
“I haven’t thought about it too much. This came to mind by observing you yesterday and today. I’ll need more time and information to make an actual plan.”
“I see.” She took a few more sips and then realized her cup was empty. She started picking out the remaining marshmallows with a small wooden fork.
“Want another hot chocolate?” I asked.
“Oh, no. That would be too much sugar, even for me.”
“Look, I’m sure you want more in life than baking sweets. Making pralines can’t be your end goal. It’s beneath a pastry chef.”
I instantly realized my mistake, but it was too late. Her eyes went completely cold.
“Again, I mean no offense, and—”
“I don’t know, Xander. That sounds a lot like an insult to me. And not even the best hot chocolate in the world can make up for it.”
Turning around, she headed out of the shop without another word.
Which was nothing more than I deserved.